<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Who We're Meant To Be by thesabotagedandovershadowed</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23481334">Who We're Meant To Be</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesabotagedandovershadowed/pseuds/thesabotagedandovershadowed'>thesabotagedandovershadowed</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, brief sam/dean/jess in chapter 1, brief weecest flashbacks, canon sort of compliant, canon-typical denial of feelings, canon-typical relationships, tags will be added as the story continues</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 08:07:14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>12,773</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23481334</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thesabotagedandovershadowed/pseuds/thesabotagedandovershadowed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In which John forces Sam and Dean to mate rather than trust Sam to strangers. Unbeknownst to John however, Sam and Dean accidentally mark each other, tying them together for life. </p><p>An A/B/O fic where Sam and Dean are a mated pair, even if they think they don't want to be.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>101</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>note there is an underage tag - it's a brief reference to sam's first heat, but it's not super detailed. </p><p>this fic is supposed to be (and eventually will be, hopefully) about sam and dean doing their typical canon avoidance of their feelings, only this time they already have a sexual relationship making everything a million times worse. that being said, this first chapter is basically a pwp between Sam/Dean/Jess though, i wont lie</p>
    </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me on tumblr: <a href="https://thesabotagedandovershadowed.tumblr.com/">thsabotagedandovershadowed</a></p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam straightened the picture on the dresser for what felt like the hundredth time. He scanned the room, looking for...what, he didn’t know. His apartment was clean, knick knacks put away and sheets washed and made. He’d already called Dean, who despite being five states away, promised he’d be there tomorrow. That was yesterday, and even with a quick nap and a shower he knew Dean wouldn’t be far now. Sam shuddered as he felt another wave go through him, face and body warm, too warm. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam?” Jess asked. She was out of the shower now, her blonde curls still damp and flat against her nightshirt. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” he reassured her through a grimace. He wasn’t, really. It wouldn’t be long now, and he could feel the panic creeping in. Despite being the two most important people in his life, Dean and Jess had never met, and Sam had no past experience to guide how this was going to go. He took comfort in the fact that while his brother could be a mess, he wasn’t cruel. Sam had told him on the phone how much she meant to him, about how much more he wanted her to be. Jess had once shown him more kindness and patience than he’d ever expected out of anyone. She’d been kind enough that he’d told her the truth - that he had mated with his own brother years ago, at the request of their father. He figured that if Jess was still willing to stay with him after learning how much of a freak he was, she’d stay with him through anything. She stayed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, Jess was a beta, unfamiliar with how messy and animalistic the process could be. If he was entirely honest with himself, he didn’t want her to see him this way, especially not around his brother. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The living room was too hot, and Sam’s mind was beginning to swim. He needed to lie down. What was done was done. He could be mated to worse people than his own brother. And besides, a part of him did love Dean, even if not in the way mated alphas and omegas were supposed to love each other. It had been pragmatism, clear and simple. They lived their life on the road, and Sam’s heat had come young. They didn’t have the luxury of ignorance, his father had told them. Anyone could be a demon, a shapeshifter, a monster. Sam couldn’t just fulfill his heat with strangers. And in a strange turn of fate, John Winchester had been blessed with an alpha and an omega. So when his first heat came, Dean had crawled into his bed and taken care of him, and they...The bite mark on his chest seemed to buzz, and he rubbed at it, frowning. It wasn’t romance - it was an agreement based on survival. Long enough without a rut or heat, and a red heat had the possibility of killing them both. Suppressants could only hold back the damage for so long. His suppressants had lasted him over a year this time, just enough time for him to meet and fall in love with Jess, and have it all crumble down in just a few minutes when Dean gets here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The apartment felt so much hotter than normal, stuffy and suffocating. He vaguely recognized Jess calling his name as he stumbled to bed, feeling weak in his legs. Jess followed after him, her face filled with concern. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He should be here by now, right? You called him yesterday.” She was beginning to panic now, so he figured he must look even worse than he felt. A year was too long, what had he been thinking waiting that long between heats? “I’m gonna call him,” she announced, marching off into the living room to look for his phone. Sam collapsed onto his pillows, too weak to worry now. Whatever happened, happened. If he couldn’t trust Dean and Jess to take care of him, who could he trust?</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Speak of the devil</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought, as he suddenly heard a loud knock on the door. He could swear he felt his body relax, just for a moment, like it knew his mate was nearby. Sam was already on edge, wet and needy, his body screaming for its mate.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow,” he hears Dean exclaim from the other room, “you know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother’s league.” Ignoring the fact that he should be irritated by his brother flirting with his girlfriend as he melted into a miserable puddle in the other room, Sam let out a breath of relief that at least his first impression seemed positive. He squirmed in anticipation, his body on fire. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean was finally here.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s in here.” Their voices became louder as she guided Dean to their bedroom, her arms crossed anxiously as she analyzed him, as if trying to see how this man could have ever been such an important person to her boyfriend.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean-” Sam tried to sit up, but his body was really working against him, making him feel weak and dizzy. “Whoa, easy there, tiger.” Dean grinned, coming to sit on the edge of his bed. Dean was as familiar to him as the sun. He still wore that stupid oversized leather jacket. The amulet he’d given him too many years ago dangled from his neck as he gently pushed Sam back down onto the bed. Sam let himself fall back onto the cool pillow, calmed by Dean’s familiar scent. “How’d you let it get this bad, huh?” He asked, smoothing the hair out of Sam’s eyes, ignoring how sweaty he already was. Sam closed his eyes and shook his head, and let himself be calmed by Dean’s voice. It’s the “big brother” voice he used sometimes, only when he was hurt, or stressed, or...in the middle of an intense heat that’s left him dazed and weak. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So uh,” Dean cleared his throat and turned to Jessica, “how was he planning on doing this?” He dropped his hand from Sam’s head to rest firmly on his belly, and Sam pressed back against him, comforted by the heavy weight holding him steady. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He asked me to stay with him, during.” Jess’s voice seemed smaller than usual. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean paused, his expression shifting for just a moment before he answered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, alright then.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam felt the bed lighten, and whined as Dean pulled away from him. Jess replaced him, settling down next to him, and he curled up against her, shivering and hot all at once. She didn’t have his alpha’s scent, but it was comforting to be near her all the same. No one spoke, and all Sam heard were his own deep breaths and the sound of Dean pulling off his heavy jacket, and tossing it on the chair as casually as if it were his own home. Underneath, he wore nothing but a black t-shirt and the amulet Sam had given him as a child. If he were more clear-headed, he might’ve teased Dean for how easily he stripped in front of his own brother and a stranger, but all he could focus on was the heady scent of his alpha filling up the room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was shirtless now, and Sam felt Jess turn her head away; as if staring at a corner of the room would help her ignore her strange, shirtless, and surprisingly muscular would-be brother-in-law undressing in her bedroom.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Help me get his clothes off,” Dean ordered as he approached the bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam attempted to sit up but felt dizzy and only succeeded in leaning further against Jess, who rubbed his shoulder softly. Dean’s cool fingers were icy against his sides as they slipped under his t-shirt and pulled it off. He thought he might’ve heard Dean tell Jess to hold him as he pulled his pants off, the insides of his thighs already slick and uncomfortable. Sam moaned in discomfort. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Heyyy, Sammy…” Dean murmured soothingly, running his hands across his thighs, the metal of his rings cool and reassuring against his too warm skin. “We’re gonna get you through this, okay?” He leaned down to kiss Sam on the forehead, and Sam sucked in his breath, arching upward to smell his alpha’s scent. He could’ve sworn Dean smiled briefly, before he planted one more kiss and continued downward, landing small, comforting pecks on his cheek, his neck, his collarbone, the scruff of his two-day beard sharp and familiar on his skin. He felt Jess move behind him to support his head as Dean’s lips traced patterns on his chest. Sam squirmed, feeling wet and hot and uncomfortable. Jess leaned down to kiss him softly, but he shot up aggressively and took her mouth, grabbing her head and pulling her closer just as his brother’s hand wrapped around his cock and started squeezing him, firm and steady. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam raised his hips wantingly towards Dean, irritated by how much his brother teased him when he must have been able to </span>
  <em>
    <span>see</span>
  </em>
  <span> how wet and ready he was. Jess hadn’t stopped either, the bastards were tag-teaming him, he realized, neither letting up. He tightened his grip on Jess and shuddered in pleasure at the four hands spreading his legs and pulling at sensitive nipples, just as they kissed him on his wet mouth, his wet cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He moaned in pleasure when Dean finally entered him with his fingers, as if checking to see if he’s ready despite how obvious it is that he wants this -- no, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> this. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What a stupidly Dean thing to do, </span>
  </em>
  <span>he thought to himself, as Dean’s fingers entered and exited him slowly, spreading him apart and pulling him closer. His hips jerked involuntarily as Dean hit his sweet spot. “Dean, please…” he begged, knowing Dean could never say no to him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I got you, little brother,” Dean said as he readjusted himself and slowly entered him. Sam cried out in satisfaction, jerking back against Jess. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay, baby?” she murmured as she kissed his temple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam nodded, whimpering and gasping against her, using her to steady himself as his big brother thrust in and out him fully and slowly, the head of his cock popping in and out of his slick hole. He whimpered in pleasure and spread his legs further, letting Dean hold them down to get deeper inside him. He sped up and Sam gasped at the sensation of Dean inside him spreading him apart. Tears gathered at the corner of his eyes as each quick thrust brought him closer to orgasm. He wondered briefly what Jess must think, seeing him with his legs spread and thighs slick, begging for his brother’s cock, crying out in pleasure each time it thrust into him. But between the softness of her breasts behind him and the firmness of Dean’s hands holding him down, Sam found himself in a state of zen where he didn’t care. He was an omega with his alpha deep inside him; he was right where he belonged. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess’s hand moved steadily in a circular motion behind him and he realized she was rubbing her clit, her own breath speeding up by the sight of them. Dean was close, he could feel it, and Sam gasped for air one last time before his own orgasm took him, head pulled back in a wordless cry as he came, feeling the hot spurts of his own cum on his stomach. Dean slowed down, thrusting in long and hard, the outline of his head raw against Sam’s entrance, and he clenched in pleasure as he felt his brother’s hot release deep inside him, Dean’s knot beginning to swell at the base of his cock, locked inside him. Dean groaned in pleasure as he released more inside him, while Sam’s toes curled and dug into the bed as he adjusted to the feeling of being filled up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It didn’t take long for the knot to reduce enough for Dean to pull out and Sam shuddered at the absence as he felt his brother’s cum spurt out of him. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Too much of it wasted</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thought hazily. Those were the kinds of thoughts he pretended not to have when the heat had finally faded. </span>
  <em>
    <span>It’s just the heat talking</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he’d convinced himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jess moved to the side and let him down gently on the pillows. He was exhausted but Dean didn’t seem tired yet. He let Sam down as gingerly as Jess had, and Sam sighed in displeasure as Dean’s hands left his hips. He watched as Dean moved forward and took Jess’s face into his hands and kissed her with the same mouth that had kissed him only minutes ago. They didn’t stop there. Sam watched, sated and messy, each pulse of his cunt squeezing out more cum from inside him, as Jess pulled his brother towards herself, giving him better access and letting his fingers rub circles on her clit. He pulled off her wet panties and threw them on to the floor before pulling her under him with startling ease. He put his mouth on her breasts and pulled and sucked at them as he fucked her, and in his dazed state Sam wondered if this was what his brother was always like with the women he brought over. She clearly seemed to be enjoying it anyways. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>That’s a hell of an alpha,</span>
  </em>
  <span> he thought fondly as he watched, mesmerized by the smooth movement of his brother’s hips, still going strong despite just finishing a knot. That was Dean -- always making up for his little brother’s shortcomings. Sam didn’t have the energy to sate her right now, but Dean was here, and he’d always taken care of things. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When they’d finished, Jess crawled over him, and he felt the slick on her legs. Not quite as wet as himself, he thought, but close. She collapsed next to him, exhausted, and rested her head on his shoulder. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean settled down on the other side and copied her movement, his arm heavy across Sam’s still heaving chest. Surrounded by safety and family, for the first time in his life, Sam imagined a future that wasn’t so hopeless. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>this fic was originally inspired by folks Wincest Discussion chat on tumblr, who pointed out the Woman in White's "you will be" comment could imply Sam's unfaithfulness to Jessica now that Dean is back. From that point, I had the idea of Sam being mated to Dean as a kid, unwillingly tying them together for the rest of their lives, and the woman in white sensing that his heat is coming (and thus, his upcoming inevitable act of cheating on Jess to have his heat with Dean). But the more I thought about it the less I liked the idea of Sam being a cheater, even if he was cheating with Dean, and I instead got the idea of Jess actually being okay with it (john forcing his kids to mate reeks more of child abuse than willing incest anyways), and her watching their heat. so that was a lot of words to basically say that the scene that inspired the fic ended up not being in the fic at all LOL</p><p>    ideally, assuming i can actually follow through on my grand fucking idea, this will fic will kind of follow them throughout their lives on the show, and show how they deal with heats and ruts and all that grand stuff while still being in denial about their feelings and their relationship.</p><p>    and yes, the title is from Demons by Imagine Dragons. "When you feel my heat, look into my eyes. It's where my demons hide." on a fic about them avoiding their feelings while still having sex with each other i mean cOME ON. anyways i see i've continued my age old tradition of having my end notes longer than the damn fic itself so ill stop here. let me know what you think!</p><p>edit: the title has changed, it used to be Where My Demons Hide, just so no one feels crazy ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Happy Easter y'all! this chapter is based off of 1x16 "Shadow" but not all the chapters will be based on episodes, don't worry. </p><p>This chapter is beta'd by <a href="https://sammehsayum.tumblr.com/">sammehsayum</a>, who has been an amazing help to me writing this fic. For anyone who doesn't know, a beta reader is essentially a volunteer editor, and she helped catch typos, fixed transitions so they could flow smoother, pointed out anything unclear and just generally was an incredibly supportive and helpful person who provided me with both feedback and encouragement. thanks so much sammeh! &lt;3</p><p>enjoy! next chapter should be coming sooner.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“So, to recap, the only successful intel we’ve scored so far is the bartender’s phone number.”</p><p>Dean could already feel a headache coming on. The victims had nothing in common, they still had no leads on where their dad was, and if Sam’s increasingly warm scent and pink cheeks were anything to go by, he was days away from his next heat. It wasn’t good to be on suppressants for long, and since they were traveling together for the foreseeable future, Sam had decided to come off them for a while. </p><p>Dean was about to change the subject to something more interesting, like the cute brunette working the bar, when Sam’s eyes locked on to something behind him. Squinting, Sam stood up and walked past Dean to the back of the bar. </p><p>“Sam?” He called, but Sam ignored him, preoccupied with...a blonde woman seated at another table. Dean’s nose twitched. <em> An alpha. </em></p><p>They clearly knew each other. And she certainly seemed pleased to see Sam, jumping up to give him a hug. Dean allowed himself an eye roll before getting up to follow.</p><p>“...I thought you were going to California?” he heard as he drifted into the conversation. He sized up Sam’s newest girlfriend as he approached, listening to her yabber on about her trip to the golden state. She had almost startlingly familiar blonde hair, cropped short. Dean was struck by the sudden remembrance of the way Jess’s soft damp curls had felt knotted around his hand. He put the thought out of his mind. That didn’t matter. Jess was gone. What <em> did </em> matter though, was that Sammy had a type, he thought with a grin. Still, her sharp, knowing eyes and strong alpha scent kept him on guard. This wasn’t Jess. </p><p>“Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we’d run into each other?” she smiled, flashing her dark eyes at him.</p><p>Dean cleared his throat.</p><p>“Yeah, I know,” Sam laughed, ignoring him, “I never thought I’d see you again.”</p><p>Oh, come on. Sammy <em> had </em> to see what was going on here, didn’t he? </p><p>The alpha shot him another smile. “Well...I’m glad you were wrong.” </p><p>She was definitely an alpha, and probably unmated, considering how hard she was flirting with Sam. Marked alphas lost interest in all other omegas besides their mates, and vice versa. Still, he was never entirely sure which rules of nature applied to Sam and him. They weren’t <em> really </em> together, and they definitely weren’t in love. But even he had to realize she must be able to smell it on him - he was a glowing, sweet-smelling omega, days away from his heat. She just wanted to flirt her way into his bed before then. Dean cleared his throat again, loudly this time.</p><p>She didn’t flinch. “Dude. Cover your mouth,” she scolded, her voice icy.</p><p>“Yeah, I’m sorry, Meg,” Sam interjected, smiling, as if he hoped his charm would excuse Dean’s embarrassing behavior. “This is my brother, Dean.” </p><p>Meg’s mouth fell open in surprise. “This is Dean?” </p><p>“Yep.” Sam smiled, though something was off about his expression. </p><p>“So you’ve heard of me,” Dean grinned, hoping his fake confidence would hold out, but it felt like “Meg” could see straight through him. </p><p>“Oh yeah, I’ve heard of you,” Meg began, the just-barely controlled loathing underneath her voice seeping through, “Nice -- the way you treat your brother like luggage.”</p><p>Dean felt like his brain had just short-circuited. “...Sorry?” he managed.</p><p>“Why don’t you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God’s green earth-”</p><p>Sam cut in. “Meg. It’s alright.” </p><p>So that’s how he really felt, huh?</p><p>Dean whistled. “Okay. Awkward. I’m gonna get a drink now.” He shot Sam one last irritated look, hoping his best “your friend is kind of a bitch” face would mask his hurt.</p>
<hr/><p>Dean braced himself as the cold air hit him.</p><p>“Who the hell was she?” The question that had been running through his mind for the past 15 minutes came out more bluntly than he’d intended. </p><p>“I don’t really know, I only met her once,” Sam answered, completely unconcerned with his tone. He was clearly thinking through something, but Dean didn’t really care what. “Meeting up with her again? I don’t know, man. It’s weird.”</p><p>Dean ignored that last comment. Sam was not going to change the subject. </p><p>“What was she saying -- I treat you like luggage? Were you bitching about me to some chick?” He’d raised his voice now, but away from the bar the streets were mostly empty, their argument drowned out by the ruckus of the distant crowds lining up. No one turned to look at them. Guilt flashed across Sam’s face.</p><p>“Look, I’m sorry, Dean, it was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that’s not important, just lis-”</p><p>Too late, his words were spilling out now. </p><p>“Well was there any truth to what she’s saying? Huh? Am I keeping you against your will, Sam?”</p><p>His words came spilling out before he could catch himself. The guilt he carried from marking Sam had weighed him down for years. Alphas and omegas were not bound to each other for life unless marked. Once marked, they lost interest in other alphas or omegas. They were no longer fertile with anyone but their mate. The decision to mark was a conscious one, made by both parties. And Sam and Dean Winchester had spent the last eleven years of their lives denying the truth of that fact. The bite mark on his chest seemed to burn through his jacket. </p><p>It was temporary. Dad had always said all of it was temporary. The hunting, the motels, the crappy food, the...the mating. One day, when all this was over, when he’d finally caught and ended the thing that killed their mom, Sam and Dean would never have to mate again. Or so he promised. His sons would find a beautiful alpha, an omega, and settle down, get married, have kids. He and Sam had always sat terrifyingly silent as John spoke of that future, knowing it would never happen. They were young. They were loyal sons; they followed orders. But Dad had never asked them to mark each other, never. Sam might have blamed him, but Dean didn’t. Sure, Dad hadn’t exactly given them the most thorough sex talk...or any, for that matter. He’d been more of a “lock them in a room and let nature take its course” kind of guy. Maybe they hadn’t understood the consequences of what they were doing. But even so...Sammy…Sam had just been a kid. Dean was the older brother, it was on him to be smarter, to have the goddamn sense not to do anything more than what Dad told him to. But like every other responsibility in his life, he’d fucked it up.</p><p>
  <em> Am I keeping you against your will?  </em>
</p><p>Neither of them could handle that question, not now, not freezing outside a bar in Chicago on a chilly fall night, only months after Sam had lost the woman he planned to marry.</p><p>“<em>No</em>, of course not! Now would you listen?” </p><p>“What?” Dean whined, but the anger had faded, replaced only by guilt. He thanked whoever was looking out for him that Sam hadn’t read deeper into the question than he needed to.</p><p>“I think there’s something strange going on here, Dean.” </p><p>Dean slipped the mask back on. “Yeah, tell me about it! She wasn’t even that into me!” </p>
<hr/><p>“It’s a big night,” Dean said, as he loaded a shotgun. </p><p>Sam mumbled an agreement, and glanced up at him, curious. “You nervous?”</p><p>Of fucking course he was. For the first time in their lives, they had a possibility of finding the thing that killed their mom, <em> killing it even. </em> But Sam was nervous too, he could sense it. </p><p>“No,” he said with all the fake confidence he could muster, “No, are you?” Now more than ever, he needed to be strong for them both.</p><p>Sam frowned, and paused for just a moment too long, before answering: “No, no way.” Bullshit. He was on edge, loading up his revolver to avoid his thoughts, taking deep breaths he pretended were nothing. This was personal for Sam, on an entirely different level than even Dean. Losing a mother, Dean knew. Losing a mother and years later losing a lover to that same monster...Dean couldn’t imagine the pain. He glanced up at Sam, and let his eyes rest on the crook of Sam’s neck, where his scent was strongest. </p><p>On any given day, Sam smelled mouthwatering to him, but he’d gotten used to it. It was normal he’d later found out, for a marked mate to smell overpowering to their partner. Over the years it had become less distracting, and he’d accepted and even appreciated it as a comforting and familiar presence that permeated every aspect of his life. He could smell Sam in the car, on his pillow, when he walked into a room. But today he was sweeter than usual, which was a pretty good indicator that Sam was close to his next heat. Still, if past experience was anything to go by, they should’ve had a few days left. More than enough time to end the bastard who’d started it all.</p><p>They continued loading their weapons in the awkward silence. Dean could feel the air charging between them, the way it did when Sam had a thought cooking in his brain that was about to boil over. He waited patiently.</p><p>“God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing, that demon?” There it was. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, alright?” he replied, trying to keep their hopes down. </p><p>“I know, I’m just saying...what if we did?” </p><p>Dean looked up. He let himself entertain the thought -- tried to picture what celebrating would even feel like -- the taste of the cold, congratulatory beer on his tongue, the pride swelling in his chest and choking him as he called Dad and told him it was finally over. He imagined the next day’s soft newspaper between his thumb and forefinger and Sam’s oh so familiar <em> so get this </em> before they moved on to another town, eager to stop all the other evil sons of bitches that walked the earth.</p><p>“What if this whole thing was over tonight?” Sam wore that same daydreamy face he’d worn when he’d spoken of leaving for college, all those years ago. “Man, I’d sleep for a month, go back to school...just be a person again,” he said, shaking his head as he returned to their weapons cache. </p><p>Dean felt his stomach drop. He slowly lowered the shotgun he’d been loading, his lips pressed tightly together. “You wanna go back to school?”</p><p>“Yeah, once we’re done hunting the thing,” Sam shrugged. </p><p>Dean made a noncommittal noise. He lowered the shotgun back into the bag.</p><p>“Why? Is there something wrong with that?”</p><p>“No, no it’s great,” he said flatly. “Good for you.” A small part of him had hoped that this was permanent. That Sam had finally made the conscious decision to stay with him. But Sam was nothing if not sharp-witted, and Dean’s placating platitudes weren’t going to put the conversation to rest.</p><p>“I mean, what are <em> you </em> gonna do when it’s all over?” </p><p>“It’s never gonna be over,” he answered bitterly. He’d been hunting his entire life. It was all he was good for, how did Sam not know that by now? “There’s gonna be others. There’s always gonna be something to hunt.”</p><p>Sam pressed the topic. “But there’s gotta be something that you want for yourself.”</p><p>“Yeah, I don’t want you to leave the second this thing’s over, Sam!” His blood boiled beneath the surface. Sam would never tell him what he needed to hear, because it wouldn’t be true. He was stupid to think anything but the damn brands on their chests connected them. For a moment, he pictured the life Sam would’ve sprinted to if they weren’t bound. Then with a painful ache of his heart, he realized he already knew what it looked like. </p><p>“Dude, what’s your problem?”</p><p>Dean braced himself on the dresser. A small sigh escaped his lips. “Why do you think I drag you everywhere, huh?” he asked, his voice low and breaking. He turned to face Sam. “Why do you think I came and got you at Stanford in the first place?”</p><p>“Cause Dad was in trouble...Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom.” Sam’s voice was small now. Careful, unsure.</p><p>“Yes, that, but it’s more than that, man! You and me,” he paused for only a moment, “and Dad -- I want us to be together again.” He met Sam’s eyes. </p><p>“I want us to be a family again.”</p><p>“Dean, we <em> are </em> a family -- I’d do anything for you.”</p><p>Sam had tears in his eyes, he realized with a start. They <em> were </em> a family, whether they liked it or not. They were tied together by blood and by sex. Their paths would always lead back to each other.</p><p>“But things will <em> never </em> be the way they were before.” </p><p>Dean could only stare. A thousand replies swirled behind his lips. He swallowed them all.</p><p>“They could be,” he whispered.</p><p>“I don’t want them to be,” Sam replied with an air of finality. Dean looked away, and focused his eyes on the carefully tucked in corners of the bedsheets. Sammy always insisted on making the bed every morning. </p><p>“I’m not gonna live this life forever,” Sam continued, “Dean, when all this is over...you’re gonna have to let me go my own way.”</p><p>Dean lifted his eyes to meet his brother. He didn’t bother to hide the bitterness in his expression. Every cell of him wanted to keep Sam near him. But the expression in Sam’s eyes tore at his heart. He could feel the longing for a life Dean could never live. But Dean knew his job -- he needed to watch out for Sammy. So he swallowed his anger, his regret, his dependence. He would do what needed to be done, always.</p>
<hr/><p>“Why are you doing this, Meg? What kinda deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?” Sam’s voice was strained, panicked. Dean’s eyes were locked with Meg -- he wouldn’t dare let another alpha stare him down -- but he could hear the desperation in his brother’s voice.</p><p>It seemed to work. Meg turned from him. “I’m doing this for the same reasons you do what you do --” she said, her voice affected, “loyalty, love.” If Dean hadn’t just gotten his head knocked around the room, he might’ve thought that her voice wavered for just a moment. But just as quickly as she slipped, she recollected herself.</p><p>“Like the love you had for mommy…And Jess,” she taunted. </p><p>“<em>Go to hell</em>,” he hissed.</p><p>“Baby, I’m already there,” she grinned, unintimidated. Still, an idea seemed to cross her mind, and she leaned forward till her palms hit the cold industrial flooring. Dean watched her crawl towards Sam, thankful for the distraction. Carefully, he maneuvered the knife from his pocket.</p><p>“Come on, Sam,” she said breathily, “there’s no need to be nasty.” Dean’s blood ran cold when he realized what she was heading for. Sam seemed to realize too, his jaw set in discomfort as she ran her lips across his neck. Dean decided in that moment that she was going to die bloody. </p><p>“I think we both know...how you really feel about me.” </p><p>Dean almost dropped the damn knife. She was too close --  pressed up against him, whispering in his ear. He could hear Sam’s shaky breath from across the room. Dean cursed internally. He was so damn close to his heat. Sam was mated to him, sure, but even so...being so close to an alpha at that stage must’ve been doing <em> something </em> to him. He needed to hurry. </p><p>“Come on, Sammy.” Dean jerked the knife violently across the ropes binding him. “You and I can still have a little dirty fun,” she breathed before laying lustful kisses all over his neck, putting her scent everywhere he knew Sam didn’t want it. Dean’s mouth twitched with barely-controlled fury. The knife clattered to the floor.</p><p>Meg’s gasps of pleasure halted. Well, he was fucked. If nothing else though, it pulled her off Sam. She strutted over, looking smug. She plucked the knife from the floor behind him, and stared at it briefly as if it were the least impressive thing in the world before chucking it away. Meg bent down to wordlessly stare him down, as if informing him with only her eyes that she was going to hurt his omega, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. When she decided she’d gotten her message across she turned and crawled back to Sam.</p><p>“Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free?” she asked in a scolding tone, returning to her former place on top of his mate. </p><p>“No,” Sam shook his head. “No...it was because I have a knife of my own.” His hands shot in front of him almost faster than Dean could process, gripping her shoulders tightly before he slammed his head into hers, knocking her to the ground. He groaned in pain, holding his head.</p><p>“Sam!” Sam was hurt, but he was going to have to power though. “Get the altar!”</p><p>Sam stumbled upwards, racing to the table in the center of the room. With a heave, he threw the table upwards, and the crashing and spilling sound of everything that had been on it filled Dean with a sense of relief. Meg had lost control, at least for now. She seemed to realize too, only a moment too late. The invisible shadows that had been lurking were finally free to do as they pleased, and they were apparently not happy about having been enslaved. They dragged her away screaming, throwing her body through the glass windows as easily as if she were a doll. </p><p>Sam returned to Dean with his knife, and leaned down to cut him free. Dean swallowed the growl in his throat as Sam pulled him up, revolted at the scent of another alpha all over him. It was fine, he told himself. Nothing a hot shower and a few hours of close quarters living wouldn’t fix. Together they limped to the broken window, and Dean sighed in relief at the sight of Meg lying broken several stories below. </p><p>“I guess the daevas didn’t like being bossed around,” Sam grimaced.</p><p>“I guess not,” he replied. Dean thought for a moment. “Hey Sam?”</p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>“Next time you wanna get laid, find a girl that’s not so buckets of crazy, huh?” With that, he turned and marched off.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>also you may have noticed the title change - sorry, im not good with titles and needed a working title until i could think of something that fit better, so hopefully you guys like this one a little bit better :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is beta'd by sammehsayum, who has been an amazing help to me writing this fic. For anyone who doesn't know, a beta reader is essentially a volunteer editor, and she helped catch typos, fixed transitions so they could flow smoother, pointed out anything unclear and just generally was an incredibly supportive and helpful person who provided me with both feedback and encouragement. thanks so much sammeh! &lt;3</p><p>set sometime during season 2. enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sam slammed the journal shut in irritation. They’d spent the last several days hunting something that continued to evade them and he just couldn’t quite figure out what it was, no matter how familiar it’s description seemed. He’d read about it before, Sam was sure of it, but nothing had turned up in any of the usual resources. He felt like he was right on the edge of a breakthrough but he just couldn’t think in this damn bar.</p><p>He’d been studying so intensely for the past few days that Dean had actually started to try to get him to take it easy. But then, “taking it easy” was practically Dean’s default state, so Sam had ignored him and marched on, even going so far as to call up Bobby looking for answers. And yet, despite his best efforts, he was no closer to figuring out what they were hunting <em> now </em> than he was two hours ago when they’d first stepped into the bar. The only difference between then and now was that his fever seemed to have worsened.</p><p>Sam pressed his palm to his forehead and closed his eyes. He didn’t feel well. Dean was somewhere across the bar and had clearly chosen his companion for the night, and while Sam had already accepted he’d be spending the night in the car outside their room, he figured he could convince them to head out early. Might even be able to get them to stop for some Advil, if he was lucky. He moved to gather up his books, feeling sluggish and heavy.</p><p>Sam stood and the past few days suddenly made sense. <em> Oh, fuck. </em> How had he missed the signs? He could already feel the heat slick between his thighs, rubbing together with uncomfortable ease when he moved. Surrounded by strangers, Sam suddenly felt exposed. He definitely needed to get back to their room… their room which Dean could no longer use. Sam sighed in frustration. Dean wouldn’t be happy. </p><p>Sam stared at his brother from across the bar. He was laughing, flirting with some college party-goer he probably should’ve been interviewing. With everything that had happened in the past few months, Dean had hit his breaking point. He needed this. Sam reasoned that he could survive a night in discomfort for the sake of his sibling. Dean would be home the next day, his tension gone and spirits lifted, and they could deal with the problem then. But deep inside, he knew his mate would never want that. Sam could hear the betrayal in his voice already: <em> why the hell didn’t you tell me your heat came? </em>With a sigh, Sam hoisted his bag onto his shoulder, and shuffled over to where Dean sat at the bar.</p><p>“Hey, hey, Sammy!” Dean twisted in his seat to meet him, “Finally here to join the fun?” His smile faded immediately when he smelled him. The girl next to him frowned, as if suddenly realizing she’d been misreading a <em> lot </em> of signs. Sam wished he could tell her she hadn’t misread a goddamn thing.</p><p>“Oh...is this your omega?” she asked sweetly, a little hope still in her voice, and Sam wanted so badly to correct her. <em> No, no, he’s just my brother, honestly, you can have him. Trust me, he’d be happier with you. </em> But he needed Dean. He wished his face wasn’t so flushed. </p><p>Normally, Dean would’ve laughed him off and introduced his little brother, maybe even try to hook him up with a friend of hers if he was in a particularly good mood. But non-verbal communication was quickly becoming a skill of theirs again. <em> We need to go, </em> <b> <em>now</em></b><em>. </em>He knew Dean had already smelled his omega in distress.</p><p>"Yeah, uh..." Dean locked eyes with him, understanding. “This is my-- look, Katie, I’m so sorry, I’m gonna have to catch you another time, yeah?” He motioned to the door with his eyes, as if to say <em> time to get the hell outta dodge, </em>and Sam felt a pang of pity as Katie nodded and looked down, disappointed. She seemed like a nice girl. She would’ve made him happy.</p><p>Dean placed his hand on his back, guiding him to the exit. They pushed through the double doors and into the cold night. There was a fresh layer of rain on the Impala, and Sam had never been so relieved to see her. He stumbled into the passenger seat and winced as another hot pulse made his cunt ache. He gripped the underside of the leather seat and waited for it to pass. His boxers were already filling up with slick. He’d be doing laundry in the early hours of the morning. </p><p>The familiar rumble of Dean’s Baby let him know they were on their way. He shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Finally he found moderate comfort in leaning his head against the crook of the seat, and stared upward at the grey headliner. </p><p>“Hey, Dean?”</p><p>Dean grunted in acknowledgement.</p><p>“I’m sorry about,” he squinted, trying to remember her name, “Katie. I know you had plans for tonight, I just-”</p><p>“Sam. You don’t need to apologize, okay? I’m not mad. Just...leave it alone.”</p><p>He waved his hand dismissively and turned to a soft rock station. Sam closed his eyes and breathed in. He wondered how long it had taken for the car to start smelling like Dean instead of their father. The old leather jacket he wore that was two sizes too big used to be their dad’s too. But now it just felt like Dean. A part of Sam wished he wouldn’t try so hard to imitate Dad. They were two separate people, and Sam much preferred Dean. </p><p>The motel wasn’t far, and they arrived sooner than Sam expected. He was pleasantly warm, and about as comfortable as he could be during a heat. He didn’t want to exit the car now, and almost asked to stay and have his heat there before he thought better of it. The last thing they needed was a citation for indecent exposure, and besides, they didn’t really fit in the backseat anyway. The door beside him suddenly opened, and Sam recoiled at the chilly night air.</p><p>Dean knelt beside him on the gravel.</p><p>"Come on, Sammy." </p><p>His voice was soft. Sam stared into his alpha’s eyes and wondered how he’d ever thought Dean would be angry. Dean had never held his heat against him, ever. He’d been taking care of him all these years, why did Sam think he would stop now? Dean rubbed comforting circles in his shoulder.</p><p>“We gotta head inside now."</p><p>Sam braced himself for movement before finally hauling himself out of the car. His jeans were disgustingly wet and his legs wobbly, and he leaned on the roof of the Impala for a moment to collect himself. He didn’t need to say anything -- Dean moved forward and grabbed his arm, draping it over his shoulder, and slammed the car door shut before guiding them to their room and dropping Sam on the nearest bed. </p><p>Against his more rational senses, Sam felt himself getting excited. They were finally alone, on cool sheets in a warm room, and his alpha’s scent was beginning to override all his other senses. He let his hands run down Dean’s chest to his jeans, and over his growing erection. Sam could practically taste his alpha’s triggered rut on his tongue. </p><p>Sam pulled off his shirt, eager to be free of the confining fabric, and lifted his hips to allow Dean to pull off his pants. Dean’s mouth was on him as soon as he did, and he landed kisses on his lower stomach, on the insides of his thighs, down the length of his cock. Sam let his head fall back in pleasure, mouth open in happy sighs, and knotted his hand in his brother’s hair. It felt good. It felt like relief. </p><p>He let Dean take him there, wet and messy, and rocked his hips against his mate, let Dean nip at his ear and kiss his neck. He shuddered in pleasure when Dean ran his tongue across his bite mark, sensitive and throbbing. And when they were finished, Sam felt just a bit smug at the sight of Dean lying on his back, sated and spent, chest heaving and cock limp against his thigh. <em> Katie </em> could’ve never made him so happy. </p><p>It took a few more hours for the hormones to ease up. Dean had fallen asleep soon after they finished, and Sam lay beside him on the bed, eyes closed but still awake, waiting for his heat to subside. He wrapped his arms around Dean’s pillow, breathing in his brother’s scent just as he felt his cum slowly drip out of him. Everything was Dean.</p><p>When he finally felt normal again, he stood up, heading for the bathroom. He knew not even the rapture would wake Dean at this point, so he turned on the faucet with no hesitation, filling a bath. He submerged himself in the steaming water and pretended it could wash away his shame. </p><p>Sam was interested in women. That was a fact. But what he had with Dean was something else, something different that transcended mere sexual orientation entirely. He <em> needed </em> Dean, in a carnal way that sometimes scared him. And though he could barely admit it in his head -- much less out loud -- sex with his mate was more intense and satisfying than anything he’d ever experienced with a woman. </p><p>He dropped his head against the cool edge of the bath and let his hands run down his thighs, and down to his firm cock. Okay, maybe the heat-induced hormones hadn’t faded just yet. He absentmindedly rubbed against his length, letting his sleepy mind run in circles.</p><p>He loved women -- he loved <em> Jess </em> -- but even with the two of them there he’d barely been able to focus on anything other than Dean. Sam had been mating with his brother since he was a child, it was natural for them. Just the way things were. But he was beginning to fear he’d never have another long term relationship with a woman in his life. His fingers crept to his entrance and slipped inside. He was still wet, a mixture of his own slick and his alpha’s seed inside him, and Sam released a shuddering breath as he fingered himself slowly, his other hand tracing distracted circles on the inside of his thigh. Water dripped from his fingers and left comfortable trails of warmth down his exposed leg. He didn’t need this...he just wanted it. </p><p>The release he felt in the bath wasn’t nearly as intense as the one he’d felt earlier with Dean, but it left him satisfied all the same. Finally clean, he slipped on a pair of fresh clothes and sighed in bliss at the way the cool cotton clung to his body. He pulled a soft towel from his bag and ran it under warm water, squeezing it out and re-wetting it again before he brought it to Dean. He hadn’t moved since Sam had left to take a shower and was quietly snoring on his back. Sam moved quickly, erasing the evidence of his own pleasure that marked his brother’s body, wiping him down before the cloth cooled and became uncomfortable. When he finished, he covered Dean with a heavy blanket before tossing away the towel.</p><p>Sam pulled back the curtains and nodded in appreciation at the presence of window screens. He twisted the handle, cracking open the window to let the cool night air in. The room smelled like heat and sex, and the night air was a welcome relief. He paused and let himself enjoy the sounds of the forest night, the sound of frogs croaking and crickets chirping. And yet, he reminded himself, somewhere out there was a monster that was killing innocent teenagers. He pulled the curtains shut, and climbed into his own bed, hoping he wouldn’t wake to another body in the morning.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>as usual, MASSIVE thanks to <a href="https://sammehsayum.tumblr.com/">@sammehsayum</a>, my beta reader, who has seriously led me through this mess. she also fucking edited this chapter TWICE, so if it's actually readable you can thank her. </p><p>on a separate note, this is a little (a lot) cheesy, but i usually have a song in mind that i listen to on repeat while i write, and this chapter's is <a href="https://youtu.be/HxY_ho260Ho">Call of Silence, by Hiroyuki Sawano</a>. More for the general vibe than the lyrics, but hey, both can fit. </p><p>enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The room was spinning. Sam may have found him in the nick of time, but the djinn had already gotten a good taste of him. Sam had left him in their room before heading out to look for the nearest blood bank before Dean went any further into shock than he already was. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This Sam was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> Sammy, not the pale imitation he’d met in the djinn’s world. Dean hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his mate till he’d woken up to his worried face inches from his own. Sam had dragged Dean back to their motel room, smelling sweet and achingly familiar. That precious scent had left Dean feeling an overwhelming sense of relief he couldn’t explain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why had that world bothered him so much? It should have been his dream come true. The question swirled around his head as he stared at the dizzying lights making the room spin. Someone took sharp, gasping breaths. Jess had been beautiful. Bright smile and blonde hair, and a dazzling ring on her finger that left him with a pit in his stomach. It was wrong.</span>
  <em>
    <span> It was wrong. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam had smelled….so different, and so wrong. He’d never even realized marking him had permanently changed his scent, it had been so long ago. He wondered if his own scent was different, too.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shivered. He was fucking freezing; the least Sam could’ve done was turn the heat up before leaving. He turned to grab a blanket, but it was tucked tightly beneath him and he didn’t trust himself to stand. The rapid, shaky breaths were his own, he realized. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And Carmen, who the hell </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> she? Now that he was awake, he realized he didn’t know her. Couldn’t draw her up in any of his memories. But she’d been an omega, sweet-smelling and laughing and all his. And the thought made him want to vomit. Or maybe it was the blood loss, he couldn’t tell anymore. He shook violently. His fingers were numb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t wrong. Society had different rules of right and wrong, a different set than hunters had -- Dad had taught him that lesson early on. Lots of things they did were “wrong”. They disturbed graves, killed monsters, committed credit card fraud just to survive. But it wasn’t wrong for them, just different rules. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Different rules</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They did what they needed to do. And he and Sam, that wasn’t wrong either. Just a different set of rules. So what if they weren’t like the siblings on TV? He challenged any dumb sitcom siblings to survive what they did and not end up as close as they were. Dean turned over and heaved. At least it hadn’t ended up on the bed. Where was Sam? Sam was comforting and familiar and </span>
  <em>
    <span>family. </span>
  </em>
  <span>You took care of family, and they’d take care of you. Dean just had a different way of taking care of his little brother. He shuddered and laid his head on the pillow. He didn’t wanna die alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The lock in the door jiggled, and Dean’s heart stopped in his throat. Sam burst in and shut the door behind him quickly. He was out of breath, and holding several blood bags in his hands. He worked quickly, moving to the closet to take a hanger, and Dean watched through hazy eyes as Sam bent it quickly and firmly and hung it on the lamp. Hunter’s homemade IV. If Sam noticed the vomit on the floor, he didn't say anything. The blood bag was connected next, and finally Sam pulled up his sleeve and exposed his arm, bluish and bruised. Dean sucked in a breath as one more needle went into his abused skin. He hated needles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shhh…” Sam’s voice settled his erratically beating heart. His hair fell into his face, covering his eyes as he leaned down to insert the needle. The black bracelet he always wore dropped past his wrist. Dean resisted the urge to snap it against his skin. He felt his heart rate finally slow to a more comfortable pace, and his breathing relax. He didn’t know if it was due to Sam’s presence or the fresh blood pumping through his veins. He hadn’t taken his eyes off of him since he’d entered the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He didn’t love him like a brother.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The realization hit him like a blast of cold air in an already freezing room. It was numbing, destabilizing. Mating and family had merged into one for him. They were one and the same, they were </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sam.</span>
  </em>
  <span> His Sam, his mate. Family and intimacy had combined years ago when they were children, and he’d never been able to separate them. How could he? Sam was his brother and his mate, he didn’t know which feelings were which. All he knew was that he loved Sam with every fiber of his being. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s thumb rubbed at his forehead soothingly in-between the gentle pull of a warm washcloth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, it’s okay,” he whispered, “you’re safe now. You’re with me.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam must’ve thought the terror in his eyes was still because of the hallucinations. Dean didn’t know how to tell Sam it was because he was in love.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>You didn’t want the burden. So we lifted it from you. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>The djinn had taken his mate and returned to him a brother. Only a brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They have godlike power. They can alter reality however they want -- past, present, future.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Dread shot through him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sammy!” His voice was slurred, weak. “No...give him back…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam reacted in a split second, pushing back his hair and holding him down, whispering that everything was okay, that he was safe now. Dean tried to reach for Sam’s mark but felt dizzy. His hands were thick and fumbling. He pawed at his omega’s shirt, and Sam pulled his hand back down and left it resting on his stomach. Dean thanked God that Sam seemed to understand what he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shh, shh, it’s okay. I got it, I know.” Sam squeezed his hand gently, as if to say </span>
  <em>
    <span>don’t move</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He let go carefully, and brought his hand back up to the top of his shirt. Dean waited, anxious. Sam was silent, the only sound between them was his own shaking breath, and the clinking of the clear buttons on Sam's shirt. It was a stupid shirt, stiff and white with pink detailing. Dean had made fun of him when he’d bought it. He used all his strength to pull himself up on wobbly arms, and leaned back against the headboard. Sam unbuttoned -- one button, two buttons -- and pulled open his shirt. Dean lifted a shaky hand and landed on Sam’s neck. His fingers dropped down and ran across his collarbone, where goosebumps were forming. Sam watched him silently, his lashes lowered, his expression unreadable. Dean’s hand moved down till he landed on the bite mark on his left breast, and pushed his shirt open further. He fingered the indented skin, memorizing the pattern. These days it was hidden underneath the pentagram that branded both their chests. The tattoos hid their marks from questioning nurses and doctors, but he and Sam would always know it was there, underneath. It was a part of them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s heart beat anxiously against the palm of his hand. Dean let out a shaky sigh of relief, but kept his hand firmly on Sam’s breast. Nothing had been changed. It was only a dream. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean?” His omega gently placed his hand over Dean’s. He looked up, worried hazel eyes peering into his mind. “What did you see?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean couldn’t tell him. He could never tell him. He’d always known he was a little fucked up, but this crossed a line even he couldn’t come back from. It wasn’t just wrong, it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>selfish</span>
  </em>
  <span>. How could he ask that of Sam, after everything they’d been through? He’d already sacrificed a normal life -- everything he’d ever wanted -- just to be with him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean gave him a weak smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Dean has some Realizations.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>my GOD this took fucking forever. It's not even as long as it was originally, i had to cut some parts out cause it was getting bloated and unfocused. ugh, sorry i made you guys wait this long for it. hope you enjoy it though!</p><p>set at the end of 3x10, Dream a Little Dream of Me. this chapter sort of replaces the actual convo they have at the end of the episode.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Sam scrubbed his face dry with the scratchy motel-provided towel. He was exhausted, but their work was done. Bobby was already on his way home, awake and in good health. Jeremy Frost’s body had been found by police a few hours ago, and with everything settled they’d entered a period of limbo where they would remain in their motel room getting a few extra nights of sleep before locating their next case. And sleep had never been so vital to their survival. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean had just come off his two day streak of consciousness, interrupted only by the brief,  restless nap necessary to take down Frost. And while Sam had anticipated the jitters as Dean slowly came down from the drugs he’d needed to stay awake for so long, it seemed he’d suffered a worse reaction than usual. At best. At worst, Frost had shown him something in that nightmare, something Sam hadn’t been there to protect him from. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Didn’t have anything to do with...you know, your psychic stuff?</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Bobby already suspected him. And deep down, Sam knew it too: the only reason they’d been able to defeat Frost was because Sam was a freak. He glanced down at his hands, which were still shaking slightly from the memory. He braced himself on the bathroom sink. All his life, all he’d ever wanted was to be normal. Now his life was throwing him down a path that seemed to do nothing but remind him that he never was, and never would be. He’d run from his powers, but now he was beginning to wonder if they might be the key to saving Dean. He’d spent years pretending to be a beta. Now he was back on the road with his brother, carrying his mate’s scent with him everywhere he went.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam glared at the mirror bitterly. He’d never been what he was supposed to be. He wasn’t a loyal son. He wasn’t an upright hunter. He wasn’t even a good omega. He pushed himself off the sink. At the very least he could be a good brother.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean was still sitting in the armchair where he’d left him. He’d barely spoken since waking up from their nap, and while he’d done everything that was expected of him -- double-checking Frost’s status, driving them back from the hospital, and even giving Bobby his usual beer-and-chat send-off -- Dean been uncharacteristically silent on the drive back to the motel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Shower’s open, if you want it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean looked up slowly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” </span>
</p><p><em><span>Confusion.</span></em> <em><span>Not a good sign.</span></em></p><p>
  <span>“The shower, Dean. Do you want one?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Dean paused, “No, no, I’m good.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam kept his eyes on his brother as he approached his brother. He tossed the towel away and leaned forward, his hand resting on the back of Dean’s chair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” he asked. “Not gonna slit your wrists in the middle of the night or something on me, right?” He kept his tone light, but they both knew his concern was warranted. Their lives weren’t easy, and sometimes they needed a few chemical stimulants to keep them running long enough to save people. Sam knew the symptoms. He knew what to look out for, and Dean was acting off. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean seemed to take the hint. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>tsk’d</span>
  </em>
  <span> in irritation, and stood suddenly, marching towards his bed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>fine, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sam. Really.” He fluffed his pillow and tossed it back on to the bed. “I’m tired, I’ve been up for two days.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam glanced back at the clock. Going on three. He sighed wearily and turned to his own bed. It hadn’t felt quite right to get a deep night’s sleep while his brother was essentially being tortured with a lack of sleep, so he’d only slept a few hours himself in the past two days. He could feel the fatigue in his bones.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No slitting your wrists,” Dean mimicked crudely, as he pulled his shirt off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam rolled his eyes. He wasn’t going to take the bait, no matter how tired he was. Dean wasn’t himself right now, and Sam didn’t have the energy for a fight.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure, sure,” Dean continued, “yeah don’t worry, Sammy. I won’t slit my wrists, if you promise not to jack off moaning about Bela tonight.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam dropped his blanket in irritation. His cheeks heated up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s none of your business, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s just-- what is it with you and these evil broads? Ruby? Meg? Now </span>
  <em>
    <span>Bela</span>
  </em>
  <span>? She’s a conceited ass on her </span>
  <em>
    <span>best</span>
  </em>
  <span> day and you wanna sleep with her?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam looked away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Look, Dean,” he spoke softly, “we’re both exhausted. We haven’t slept in days, we just-” He rubbed his face. “We’ll feel better tomorrow, okay? Just get some rest.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He climbed into bed, and Dean mirrored him, still upset but too tired to push the fight. Sam switched the light off, and rubbed his eyes red. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then there was silence, no sound in the room besides the shuffling of their blankets as they both tried to get comfortable. But after a few moments, he heard Dean’s voice beside him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Night, Sam.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He didn’t miss the note of shame in Dean’s voice. Sam looked to his left, but his eyes hadn’t adjusted to the darkness yet. All he could see was the blaring red of the motel alarm clock. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Goodnight, Dean.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Against any shred of logic, Sam couldn’t sleep. He lay on his back, one hand behind his head, and stared up at the ceiling. Dean’s words weighed heavily on his chest. The thought occurred to him that one day Dean might tell him goodnight for the final time. Two days ago thoughts like that had left Sam a drunken mess at two in the afternoon. Now he’d rescued Dean from yet another mess, but he still felt no sense of security. He wouldn’t, not until Dean agreed to </span>
  <em>
    <span>try</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean stubbornly refused to save himself. Instead he remained intent on going out with a bang, sleeping with every beautiful beta from east coast to west while drinking himself into an early grave. Sam had undertaken all possible routes to retrieve Dean’s contract on his own, but he’d had to do it behind his brother’s back. So far, nothing had turned up, but Dean’s denial had left him searching with one hand tied behind his back. They were together every second of every day. It was hard to sneak away under those conditions.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam’s nails dug into his skin. The frustration was unbearable sometimes. It felt as though every time he settled and adjusted to what life had given him, it was taken away. He was fine with their situation. He knew he would never have a “real” alpha. Life next to Dean was comforting in its own way, even life as a hunter. Now even Dean was leaving him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean jerked suddenly. Sam started, and turned on the light. Dean mumbled emphatically to himself, eyes closed and body limp. Sam sighed. Just a nightmare. He turned off the lamp. He didn’t want to keep him up the whole night.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean. Dean!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s gasping breaths told him he’d woken up, though he couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness. He waited a moment for Dean to say something, then spoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You okay?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean didn’t reply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey, c’mon,” Sam nudged, “answer me before I get worried.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m okay, Sammy,” Dean finally spoke, his voice unsteady. “I’m alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam let it go. He crawled back under his covers, and the room was silent again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you wanna talk about it?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam could swear Dean rubbed his thumb nervously across the pillow, but the weak light might’ve been deceiving his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you ever think about Dad?” he finally asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam frowned. It wasn’t like them to talk about their dad. He’d been gone over a year now, and they’d dealt with it in the patented Winchester way: with denial, distraction, and some whiskey to help it all along. Apart from theorizing over how he could have died, they’d never spoken of it again. They certainly hadn’t dealt with any lingering…feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Did that Jeremy asshole show you Dad?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How’d you guess?” Dean might’ve been aiming for sarcasm, but his voice was uncharacteristically weak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam returned to staring at the inky black ceiling. “Jeremy had issues with his own Dad. Baseball bats and all.” He shrugged, though he didn’t know if Dean could see him. “Figured if anyone could spot daddy issues a mile away it’d be him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean huffed. “You really think we’ve got ‘daddy issues?’”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What else would you call it, Dean?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He did his best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always did take his side.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam waited for Dean’s usual retort, but none came. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You know I never meant to…” Dean’s voice was quiet, careful. Sam heard him shift uncomfortably under the comforter. “I never meant to let you down, Sammy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You never did, Dean.” The lie came so easily to his lips. “Where’s this coming from?” Sam asked, the anger in him rising. “What did he show you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, it was nothing,” Dean’s voice was thick with emotion, wet. Was he crying? Sam turned to his side, facing Dean, clutching his pillow, just like he’d learned from big brother. He waited. Dean needed to speak, but he needed time, to do it on his own terms. For a while, the only sound between them was the small humming of the alarm clock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Dean finally spoke, he spoke with measured words: “Did you ever feel like a disappointment?”</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>Gloomy Oregon forests sped past them. Dad always drove fast when he’d caught a case. There were lives on the line, he reminded them. Sam couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d started to feel his heat coming on six excruciating hours ago, and Dad hadn’t shown any signs of stopping yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean sat up front, always with Dad. When they were younger, they’d played in the backseat while Dad drove in silence, always listening to his favorite casette tapes. But Dean was older now, and he had to discuss case details with him. Sam swallowed and rubbed his legs together in discomfort. He’d already begged to stop twice. But there were lives on the line, and John Winchester was a man on a mission.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dad, are we stopping soon?” He had to smell what was happening, didn’t he? He may not have been an alpha but the smell of his heat had to be overpowering at this point. Dean cast another nervous glance towards the backseat. Sam glared at him, but his mate remained silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re almost to the motel, Sam.” His father answered calmly, staring at the road ahead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was another 40 minutes before they pulled into the parking lot of yet another run-down motel. John left the car running before stepping out to rent them a room. The door had barely closed before Sam was yelling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry!” Dean winced. “You know there was no way he was gonna stop before we got here, I would’ve just made him mad.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It hurts,” Sam whined. He was doubled over now, clutching his stomach. It didn’t help much. He always felt too hot, too wet. And he wanted Dean now, had needed him for hours. The front seat had never felt so far away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll get a room and we’ll be alright, Sammy.” Dean reached a hand back and rubbed his knee. The scent emanating from his wrist calmed him a bit, but only a knot would bring him back to normal now. “Dad’ll get some food, and we’ll take care of your heat, and then we can eat, alright? It’s almost over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam moaned in protest. He let his head drop to rest on Dean’s arm. Despite the stuffiness of the car and the pain in his body, a small smile slipped through as Dean lifted his hand to gently ruffle his hair. The car door opened, and his brother’s hand shot back as if he’d touched fire.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Room 104,” John said, handing the keys to Dean before putting the car in drive. When the car stopped again, Sam opened the door but didn’t move. He didn’t trust himself to stand, and the last thing he needed was to make a big show of everything. Dean exited quickly, slamming the door behind him, and Sam shuddered as the closing door wafted Dean’s scent toward him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You alright?” He looked up to see his father’s eyes, not Dean’s. He knelt in front of Sam, eyebrows knitted in worry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Sam answered in a small voice. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you stand?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam shook his head meekly. Dean had come to stand beside John, but didn’t dare step in front of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, come on then.” John moved forward and picked him up, much to Sam’s embarrassment. Sam was far too old to be carried, but also in no position to deny the help. A sour look overtook Dean’s face. John may have been their father and a beta, but alphas were alphas, he supposed. Taking steady breaths, he clutched the back of his father’s leather jacket and leaned his head in the crook of his neck, grateful for the assistance.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John placed him gently on the motel bed, but Sam whimpered in pain anyways. Every part of him was too sensitive. It felt good when Dean was kissing him, but right now he just felt ill. He hated feeling weak. Dean came to sit next to him on the bed, brushing his hair aside softly. When his fingers grazed the scent glands on his neck, Sam let out a purr instinctively, and curled into Dean, nestling his head against his alpha’s thigh. When he realized what he’d done, he reddened. He hadn’t meant to do that with Dad still in the room, but he’d been waiting for Dean for hours.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We need to check out the crime scene before they clean it up,” John said, stubbornly ignoring the display of affection he’d just witnessed. “If we hurry, we can still make it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Both brothers looked up in surprise. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“R-right now?” Dean asked, dumbly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sam won’t die of a heat, Dean.” John said firmly. “People will die because of this monster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam looked at Dean desperately.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He could die of a red heat,” Dean supplied weakly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Red heats happen if hasn’t had an alpha in months. Have you been skipping his heats?” John asked sternly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>John didn’t say anything more, but his expression was clear. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t try to play me for a fool, boy.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re already down a pair of hands,” he said, gesturing to Sam with his chin. Sam looked away in shame. “We’re gonna need to work twice as hard, twice as fast. So we will deal with this problem when we get back. Now hurry. I won’t ask again.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam turned his head away in shame. Dean stood slowly, and Sam reached for him like a child. The embarrassment would come later, but Dean couldn’t leave him, not like this.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry,” Dean murmured to him, “We’ll be back as soon as we can. I’ll be back, I promise.” He pulled free of Sam’s grip and followed his father to the car.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam winced as the door slammed shut. He’d been so close. He turned miserably in the bed, and curled inward. Dean hadn’t even had time to scent the room. It smelled empty, of industrial cleaners that had long since sanitized and hidden the scents of alphas and omegas before them. They hadn’t brought any bags in. He had none of Dean’s clothes to scent against him, nothing. Nothing in the room smelled like Dean. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam groaned in pain as another wave passed through him. He knew better than to touch himself. It did nothing. Only his mate could help him now, and he wouldn’t be back for hours at best. And at worst...when Dad caught the trail of a monster, nothing could stop him. He might keep Dean by his side for the next few days. And by then his heat would be over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If he’d been an alpha, none of this would have ever happened. Sam could’ve ignored his rut for months on end without suppressants. He wouldn’t be kept alone in a room thanks to his own biology while they hunted down monsters. He knew Dad resented him for it. Hunting would’ve been easier without an omega son dragging him down. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam blinked away the tears in his eyes. Dad listened to Dean, sometimes. All he had to do was speak up. If he’d have said something, maybe Dad would have let him stay. But all Dean ever worried about was pleasing him. Sam wished he knew why Dean would never choose him over Dad. Sam would defend him in a heartbeat if he needed to -- hell, he already had. But his brother would never do the same for him. Dean was kind and caring, and took care of his heats when he could, but Sam wasn’t an idiot.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d seen marked mates on TV, in public. They always looked so happy, two souls as one, clinging to each other as if even the thought of being physically apart for a moment was painful. When an alpha and omega fell in love, nothing in the world could come between them. He had watched mated pairs stare into each other’s eyes in adoration, and been overcome with so much longing he’d felt physically ill. Sam wasn’t sure how old he’d been when he realized Dean would never look at him like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They were supposed to put each other above all else. But Dean always chose Dad. Dean had never purred for him, not like he was supposed to. Sam didn’t ask. Dean never touched him in public, never called him his omega. Sam didn’t ask. And after their heats, Dean didn’t stay with him, didn’t hold him close as they came down from the hormones. And Sam didn’t ask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>On particularly bad nights, he’d let himself wonder what was so wrong with him that Dean didn’t want him. The way Dean looked at him sometimes...it wasn’t love. Sam might’ve called it shame. He was four years younger than Dean and almost as tall as him now. Maybe that was why. He knew omegas -- even male omegas -- were supposed to be petite and pretty. He saw the beta girls Dean chased after, small and delicate under his rough hands. He probably didn’t want an omega that would be taller than him one day. Sam had filed it away as just another way in which he was a freak.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Everything was fine. Sam choked back a sob as his own body fought against him. He had a plan. He’d lost the chance for true love, he knew. He was bound to Dean now, no alpha could have him even if they wanted. But he didn’t need a soulmate. He could make due with a beta, the same way Dean did. He’d leave for college, and on strong enough suppressants he could even pass as an alpha. He’d find a beta, someone who would love him. Someone who would put him first, and hold him at night and kiss him in the morning. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But now, Sam just felt aching, and empty, and alone. He cried himself to sleep, waiting for his heat to pass. Dean didn’t return for several days.</span>
</p>
<hr/><p>
  <span>“Yeah, all the time,” Sam answered honestly. “I was too young to be on suppressants then. My heat came every month, and you weren’t always there. I missed school, hunts. Dad never said anything, but…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You knew he was frustrated.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Life would’ve been a lot easier with two alpha sons.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither of them could deny it, and they lapsed into silence once more. But Dean never spoke openly about their father, and now that he had, Sam was going to use it for all it was worth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just that sometimes,” he began, “even though it was his fault we ended up like this, it was like he was barely tolerating it. Like he didn’t wanna see what was happening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were his kids and we were fucking, Sam. Can you really blame him for not wanting any part of it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But that's my point Dean, he </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>a part of it. He was the one who put us in that situation to begin with. Then as soon as he did, it was like he resented us for it. He should’ve been there to- to…” Sam’s voice trailed off. </span>
  <em>
    <span>To guide us</span>
  </em>
  <span> went unsaid. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Their bodies had been changing rapidly, mixing with complicated feelings driven by too cramped spaces and too intertwined lives. John should’ve been the one to provide clarity, to lead them through. Instead, he had left them to find the answers themselves, and the answers they’d found had only ever disappointed him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was a few moments before Dean’s question finally hit Sam’s sleepless mind. It startled him, the idea that his big brother, Dad’s perfect little soldier, his own faithful alpha, could ever doubt himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, you were never a disappointment. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Ever</span>
  </em>
  <span>.” He hoped the weight of his words would reach his brother. Some part of him knew they wouldn’t. </span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Not to me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“He used to send me off, when he thought we were getting too close.” Dean’s voice was quiet, whispered, as if saying it any louder would summon the man to their room mid-conversation. “I didn’t wanna leave...I think you knew that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam blinked the tears out of his eyes. Why were they even talking about this now? Whatever Jeremy had done, he’d dredged up long-since buried memories of things Sam thought they had both put to rest years ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean shook his head in the dim red light. “And it wasn’t just him, Sammy. I wasn’t always there for you when I should’ve been.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Dean, you were always there for me. As much as he let you be, anyways.” Sam paused for a moment, wondering whether to say what he felt aloud. “Look, I know you didn’t want to be my alpha. But despite that, you’ve been a better one than I could’ve ever asked for. So...thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The room returned to silence, only this time Sam couldn’t bear it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Man, Dad really fucked us up, didn’t he?” he laughed, pushing hair back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For once, Dean didn’t disagree. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Guess I can give him hell when I see him.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That sobered Sam up. Their time together was limited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sammy?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sam turned to look at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t wanna die.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m not gonna let you die.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dean’s breath was shaky. Sam could hear it from his bed. The gap between their beds had never felt so wide. Hesitantly, he reached out his hand from beneath his blanket, reaching across to Dean. He didn’t know why, but some part of his soul knew his usually reticent brother needed the comfort that night. He knew Dean could see, even if only illuminated in the quiet red of the clock. He waited what felt like an agonizingly long time in the cold space between them, though in reality it couldn’t have been more than a few seconds, before Dean reached out to take his hand. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Neither spoke. He squeezed his brother’s hand, and Dean tentatively squeezed back. Sam ran his thumb across the back of his hand, memorizing the veins. The ring he never took off was warm against his palm. And then as quietly as it had started, it ended. They withdrew their hands back beneath their respective covers, and it was over. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>find me on tumblr: <a href="https://thesabotagedandovershadowed.tumblr.com/">thesabotagedandovershadowed</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>